


[discontinued]

by typervoxilations



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Cambion, Dystopia, Fantasy, Futuristic, Hetero Minor Pairing, M/M, Magic, Male Witches, Mentions of other supernatural beings, Minor Character Death, Moderately Slow Build, Naiads, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Male Character x Original Female Character, Original Male Character x Original Male Character, Original Slash, Sirens, Slash, Slash Main Pairing, Supernatural Creatures, The vampires don't sparkle okay, Vampires, Witches, Zombies (kind of), apocalyptic, discontinued, do not read, fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typervoxilations/pseuds/typervoxilations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this work will be revamped under the name The Shards of Ash and Stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fae, The Witch, and Enchantments Threefold

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to CMTaylor (dioxazinepurple) because it was only due to reading A Flash of Gold and Fire that I finally got off my lazy ass and did something about this story idea that just wouldn't leave me be.

_82 A.R. - New New York_

 

  The silence was deafening and Elias had never really understood the extent of that phrase until decades back, picking his way through the empty, toxic wastelands that made up the far outskirts of New New York, which was littered with scrap metal and junk and the remnants of evidence that whispered the stories of the people who used to live there. The straps of his rifle and pack bit into his wounded shoulder and threatened to draw even more blood, the precious few drops he still had left in his veins, and he shifted the worn polyester material off into his palm because couldn't afford that, not when it had been ages since he had properly rested, and the scent of a fresh injury would attract the deadmen like flies to shit and it wouldn't matter that Elias wasn’t up to the deadmen’s usual standard of taste. It wouldn't matter because deadmen were husks of the living and they craved their meat raw and moving and feasted on each other if they had to, even if they still liked the living ones best. It wouldn't matter because right now Elias was fair game after a long period of starvation and deadmen always went for the weaker prey before they banded together into a big enough group to hunt down the stronger ones.

  Elias grimaced because when the hell did he become such a cynic?

 A rusted swing set, still standing bravely, boldly, among what probably had been a children's playground, creaked in the gentle, dust-scented wind and Elias could hear the ghosts laughing, as if they were still there; and if he had any empathy in him at the moment, he would’ve paused to mourn them. But hunger and weariness drove him onwards as the sky began to darken steadily.

  The outskirts gave way to familiar cracked cement walls, badly, hastily patched up in an attempt to form adequate shelter from the moontide storms. They got worse the closer you got to the places that used to be cities, Elias had noticed. Out there, in the bare lands with little to no shelter, the worst that could happen was the sand devils. New New York had seen its' fair share of acid rains and deadmen limbs and toxic devilstorms and who knew what else and Elias tended to avoid the former metropolis areas for that very reason. He wouldn't even be here now if it wasn't for a friend (term loosely applied) and a favor and a deep rooted ache that had carved a space inside the walls of his chest, something that could’ve been a loneliness that he wasn’t going to admit was there, because admitting meant that he was ready to settle down, and he was too much a wanderer at heart, travelled too many miles to think about putting down roots anywhere.

  But the world had gotten smaller, lost the novelty and intrigue that had charmed him in the past, and Elias no longer wanted to see what it had become, clinging on to the illusion of what had been.

  The further he went, the higher the buildings got, mockeries of the skyscrapers he had seen when he was younger, and previously invisible wards shone silver and pale blue as he drew near. The prickle of magic, like the buzzing of angry wasps, crept down the back of his neck and down his spine like a spider with needles for legs, but he passed it with only a minor discomfort. He felt the iron band around his lungs unwind and he scratched the back of his neck even though he knew, logically, that the itch there didn’t really exist. The narrow alleyways created by the proximity of the structures made his unease grow, and he was reminded of exactly why he had never accepted Aedan's offer for a roof over his head and a halfway decent job with a semi-decent  reimbursement.

  Not when the world was dying and dying and crumbling beneath his feet and he felt as if the moment he stopped running, the cracks that had opened up that day in his past would swallow him whole, even if he was tired, so tired, weighed down by time and dragging along so many memories, so many failures that he was Atlas with the world on his shoulders and he wondered how the Titan didn't collapse under the strain.

  He almost breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar rusted sign came into view, but he had long stopped needing to breathe a lifetime ago and all that passed was silence as he picked his way over rubble and stone, slipping the rifle back onto his shoulder, pressing his hand against the door. The Ogham letters reacted immediately to his presence, and they spluttered to life along the iron and silver door frame, glowing pale blue and flickering like a candle on its last legs. 'What is the song that the fair folk sing?' The runes arranged themselves and Elias fought to roll his eyes because Aedan was either making it too easy or his security was getting too lax. "Love conquers death, honor before debt, and beauty between man and angel." He answered in Gaelic and the chicken-scratch letters shone a little brighter before there was the click of a lock being slid out of the way and the door swung inwards to accept him.

  He stepped into the comfortable warmth of the inside, a warmth that could actually cut through the eternal chill of his body, and the enchanted door snapped shut behind him with an inaudible click as he was enveloped in the smell of Irish whiskey and tobacco, swallowed by the loud, cheerful chatter of so many living beings in the same space and the upbeat songs that were squeezed out of some ancient bagpipe that caused a hilarious enough sight to make a couple of rowdier tenants roar in laughter. Somewhere from the back, a spark of lightning flashed across the crowded space and only succeeded in smacking into the iron-wrought chandelier and making it swing haphazardly. The din wasn't affected by his appearance as much, because everyone had been lulled into a sense of security and denial, and another single straggler to join their midst wasn't enough to cause heads to turn.

  As always, Elias felt out of place as he skirted around filled tables, ducking spells thrown carelessly in drunken stupor and dodging roaring drunk fae as they stumbled about, biting and scratching and singing off key, and made his way to the bar.

  "Elias!"

  He smiled at the familiar face that twirled into his line of sight, long dark hair swinging about an hourglass body and he had to marvel at the grace she had adopted after so little time on land.

  "Maeve." He murmured, and she was close enough that he didn't need to raise his voice. "It has been a while."

  Maeve smiled brilliantly, her face lighting up and her eyes sparkling, even with the polite lilt to his words that he had never really gotten rid of even after centuries among humanity's youth.

  "Ages." She agreed, sliding drinks over to a table on his right even as she spoke to him. "You need to drop by more often! Aedan won't say it but he misses you when you're gone." She teased and Elias laughed, feeling the tension in his shoulders relax somewhat, not enough to let the straps of his weapon and his bag slip off. "I do too, you know." Her lips formed a pout and he would've felt a little bad not visiting, but Elias didn't do guilty either.

  "Aedan and Tsering are already wonderful company. You would undoubtedly tire of me if I were around as much as you wish for me to be." He ignored the flirtatious glance she sent him, under her lashes, let the words loaded with double meaning fly right over his head, as he always did. Maeve was most likely too used to the roundabout rejection by now, because all she did was roll her eyes; but Elias knew better than to assume that she would ever stop her advances.

  "He's in the back, by the way," she waved him off. "Some witch and his inflated ego decided it would be a good idea to tackle the fae brew." Maeve suddenly adopted such a malevolently satisfied tone that Elias had to arch an eyebrow, but asked no questions as he raised a hand in thanks and quietly slunk towards the door to the lounge, a skewered 'Employees Only' sign held up only by a wire and nail.

  He grimaced when the sound of vomiting was the first thing to reach his ears upon entrance.

  "...I hate you so much right now," an unfamiliar voice rasped, as Elias quietly closed the door behind him, making his way down the hall, and Aedan's familiar heavy Scottish accent replied in a chuckle.

  "Ah did warn ye."

 "You did _not_. I'm never trusting you again. You fae and your f-" A muffled retch cut through his words. "...fucking poisons." Elias could practically hear the eyeroll that accompanied the silence, and he reached up to rap against the door frame of the employee's lounge to get their attention. He barely got halfway when the shock of fire-orange hair bent over the pitiful pile of skin and clothing on the couch lifted in reaction to the his presence.

  "Elias." Aedan blinked up at him, a look of mild surprise on his features. Or what passed as mild surprise, because Elias could never tell what went on underneath that eyepatch.

  "Aedan." Elias nodded, slipping his rifle and pack off his shoulders, sighing silently in relief out of habit more than an actual need to express it. "An unfortunate adventure with the whiskey?" He nodded at the mound, curled up in a fetal position with a tin bucket somewhere near his head. A weak 'fuck off’ was his reply from the bundle of misery and Elias couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Aedan rolled his visible eye, and ruffle the dark mop of hair before stretching up to his full height and turning to Elias.

  "Ah wasnae expectin' ye fur anither few days. Nae a lot ay traffic?" He asked wryly, motioning for them to go into the hallway and leave their current company in peace and Elias complied. The hallway was dimly lit with the same magic that made the runes glow, caught in old-fashioned gas lamps in some ironic attempt at some sort of cynical aesthetic, casting an eerie blue haze to their skin, the color of a corpse in _pallor mortis_.

  "Surprisingly. Not even around Bellapin City. Even Septimus was concerned enough about the lack of activity to request that I look into it." He reached up to massage his shoulder, and the magical illumination caught the shiny matte membrane of slow-healing injuries. "Apart from the horde that attempted to hunt me some days ago, the north has been, more or less, disturbingly quiet. Not even a hint of them around this city."

  Aedan frowned.

  "Ah’ve bin hearin' somethin' similar frae overseas. It micht be cause fer concern."

  Elias snorted, ineloquent and contrasting sharply with the grace he usually conducted himself with. "That would be highly unlikely." He shook his head. "When the deadmen first rose, humans had been concerned they wouldn’t be able to keep them down, but we proved that wrong. What else more could become a concern?" Aedan didn’t look like he was going to drop the subject any time soon and Elias regretted bringing it up, choosing to change topics to distract him instead. "But enough about that. I brought what you requested and I hope you are satisfied, because the organs of the undead are not easy to retrieve and I am not doing it again."

  Aedan flashed him a smile, white teeth almost the same color as his pale, corpse-blue skin. "Why d'ye think ah gie ye tae retrieve them _fer_ me?"

  "You, my friend, are an asshole."

  Aedan laughed quietly at the lack of elegance in Elias's words and clapped him on his other shoulder.

  "Fae usually are."

  Elias rolled his eyes.

  "I am quite fortunate you're not Unseelie."

  The fae chose not to respond to the jab and leaned against the wall, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the inner pocket of his vest. "So." He spoke around the thin cylinder of tobacco, snapping his fingers to conjure a pinprick of a flame to light it up with. "Ye stayin' long in town? Still got tha' apartment openin' if ye want it." Elias leaned against the opposite wall, and the shadows that played over his face made him look older than his physical form alluded to; world-weary and ancient and nothing of the youth that was suggested.

  "...I am not sure.  Perhaps." He admitted, only half aware of what he was saying, and then immediately cursed his momentary weakness. He couldn't stay; he'd just be all jittery and exasperating and Aedan would finally have to kick him out. But perhaps it was the hunger and fatigue speaking, the temptation to rest was too great, and maybe, maybe for a while, he could feel safe amongst the closest thing he had to friends. "I only meant, Septimus has enough on his plate without me, and being the Speaker is good for him. Asha's is more than enough help and-"

  "If ye want tae stay ye can jis' say so." Aedan flicked cigarette ash in his direction and Elias merely let it settle on his scarred paper-white skin like grey-stained snow that sent pinpricks of warmth into his bones. "Ye swatch loch jobby, an' you're gonna need ta feed. Maeve an' Tseng will murder me if ah lit ye go withit takin' caur ay ye properly first." The hint of a smile flickered across Elias's usually haunted features.

  "...So you call her Tseng now?"

  In a rare moment of embarrassment, Aedan blushed, red tainting his face, all the way up to unnaturally pointed ears hidden in his fire-orange hair. "...shut up." He muttered, extinguishing his barely smoked cigarette on the glass of a nearby gas lamp and Elias laughed low in his throat.

  "She's a good influence on you, you know."

  "Elias, jis' shut up."

  Dry retching from the lounge cut into their conversation and Elias tilted his head towards the doorway. "In any case, I don’t think I’ve been properly introduced to your willful guest?"

  Aedan flicked the cigarette into the gas lamp. "Inteus? He's frae around, settled doon a coople years efter ye left. Usually comes over tae help out an' mince. He's hell as company, got intae a barnie wi' Maeve first day, but he's a damn good witch. Poisons, voodoo, an' all tha'. Nae a body breaks up a bar barnie faster than he diz either, tha's fer sure."

  Elias made a noncommittal noise of interest.

  "It’s not _voodoo_ , it’s _hoodoo_." A voice grumbled from the doorway in a tone that spoke volumes of correcting this mistake more times than anyone could care to count and both supernatural beings turned their attention to their third companion.

  Inteus was actually quite tall, now that he wasn't curled in on himself, and except for his slightly uneven breath, the weak stuttering of his heart that Elias could hear even with the distance between them, and the glimmer of the light sheen of sweat along the line of his almost delicate jaw, Elias wouldn't have been able to tell that he had been suffering from a poisoning just minutes prior. "There is a difference." His fingers flexed, searching for a firmer grip on the door frame and Elias found himself tracking the oddly fluid movements, just for a second, and then Inteus was brushing past them, towards the door. "Gonna head home, feel like a train wreck." He muttered, but the bravado he put on seemed to falter for a second, stumbling, and Elias surprised himself by already being at his side, fingers tight but not bruising around his elbow, and he tried not to flinch when the witch hissed at the undoubtedly chilly sensation.

  "...Careful." He murmured, three seconds too late, and Inteus jerked his arm away like he was burned.

  "Ye swatch loch you're abit tae keel over any second." Aedan sounded like he was about to start laughing.

  "...shut up Aedan." Inteus shot back weakly, without any real heat, Elias noted.

  "Micht an aw go wi' him, Elias." Aedan ignored the attempt at a response and nodded at the witch. "Inteus li'es in th' same complex. He can shaw ye tae th' room." Inteus's fever-bright eyes burned into Aedan with a ferocity that reminded Elias of a cornered predator, but he offered no other argument as he whirled back around and stormed through the door.

  "...I never said I was going to stay." Elias muttered, but he kept his eyes on Inteus until the door slammed shut after him.

  "Ye ne'er said ye were leavin'." Aedan replied easily, pulling out another cigarette, and Elias couldn't quite hide a faint smile. "Now coorie up afair Inteus leaves ye behin'." Elias didn't need to be told twice, and he was already retrieving his rifle where it was propped up against the wall and ambling after the temperamental witch, Aedan's quiet chuckling trailing after him like smoke.

  Elias was surprised to find Inteus waiting for him at the door that led back into the quiet outside world, and the lighting of the bar, though still dim, was brighter than the flickering glow of the lounge, further hooding the witch's dark eyes and illuminating the witch's olive skin tone and what seemed to be a permanent glower. "If you are not comfortable with my presence, I'm sure Aedan will not notice if I navigated my way to his apartments alone." Elias offered quietly, when he got close enough to speak without having to raise his voice over the noise of the still rowdy bar. Inteus's eyes were narrowed in annoyance, and something like exhaustion.

  "I'm not doing this because Aedan asked me to," he clarified in a grumble, even though Elias was inclined to believe otherwise. "If I thought you were going to be a nuisance, I wouldn't have waited." It seemed to the closest thing to acceptance that the witch seemed capable of at the moment and Elias contented himself with it. "Don't get lost." Inteus threw over his shoulder. The door whirred open with a touch, and Elias followed him back into the gathering twilight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  Sunlight flickered into Inteus's eyelids and he hissed in reflex, swinging his arm blindly to grab the covers and pull them over his head, but his fingers grasped nothing and he was forced to open his eyes, scowling at nothing and at everything at once. He only had vague recollections of the night before, but the most prominent one included Aedan, Maeve, and a draught of Seelie Court spirits that Aedan had warned him would most likely do more harm than good, and Inteus groaned as he rolled off the bed and into the carpet, where the covers had been kicked off the night before as he fitfully slept throughout most of the poisoning.

  If he had been any other person, he probably would've been dead by now.

  But he wasn't and as it was, he had one more poison to add to his inventory.

  He ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes as he rocked back onto his feet and made his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

  And stopped in his tracks as he realized a certain scarred and pale-skinned individual was sitting cross-legged, all prim and proper, the perfect picture of a normal person in a normal situation and right at home, when Inteus wasn't even sure how he even got in. "...what the shit." Elias looked straight at him, as he stood frozen in the doorway.

  "Oh, good morning, Inteus. Are you feeling any better?"

  "How the hell did you even get in here?" Inteus took little comfort in the fact that if the guy wanted to do anything to him, he'd have done it while he was asleep, and continued with his predetermined plan to making breakfast and then grabbing a quick shower before heading back to Aedan's bar.

  "You let me in." Elias tilted his head, patient, as if he had counted on Inteus not remembering. "Something about, ‘not being able to bother with finding the keys to the other room last night, so I might as well just sleep on your couch’?" The witch groaned, wanting to smack his head against the wall, because it sounded like Elias was quoting him word for word.

  "Figures." A quick, cursory glance into the messy living room and it looked like the couch had barely been touched, let alone slept in. Inteus would’ve found it weird if he wasn’t still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had a stranger in his kitchen. A seriously attractive stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. "It would've been easier to find a place to sleep outside. Break the door down and let Aedan fix it later or something. You didn't have to stay." The living room, and the rest of his apartment, was, to put nicely, a mess; and it wasn't like he had time to clean up for company. Colored bottles and glass vials filled with ominous looking liquids and scattered pages with scrawled notes and books upon books littered almost every square inch of free space. It was kind of embarrassing now that a stranger had been let inside, even though Inteus had never usually cared about what people thought about how he lived. "I don't know what I'm saying when I'm in that kind of state. Next time it happens, ignore me." For a second Inteus tried to figure out what was wrong with what he just said, shaking his head and pressing the cool breadth of his palm against his forehead, and realized he was assuming there would even be a next time when he barely even knew the guy other than the fact that Aedan trusted him.

  A lot.

  Enough to let him even offer lodging in the private apartment complex that he reserved for only a select few supernatural individuals.

  If Elias had noticed his slip up, he didn't say anything.

  Inteus dropped his hand and began rummaging through the fragile crystal phials and thick glass decanters for something edible and he really needed to learn to keep his poisons out of the kitchen one of these days.

  "Want anything?" He asked, just to be polite.

  "No, thank you." Elias replied, even _more_ politely, and that annoyed him a little bit, but he just shrugged it off instead. "I do not wish to intrude on your hospitality any more than necessary." Inteus shook a half-empty box of cereal, and replaced it with one of Tsering’s newer batch of baked goods instead, all the while trying to figure out if Elias was being sarcastic or not. Taking a bite out of a blueberry-flavored non-poisonous treat, Inteus not so secretly observed Elias head on.

  He looked like someone who might have seen some better days, paper-white skin stretched taut over a well-muscled body, purple-blue bruises and scars both white and red littering his arms and hands and face, and neck, like someone had once tried to decapitate him and failed. Shadows lined the edges of his eyes like someone that desperately needed sleep, but at the same time suffered from a severe case of insomnia, and despite all the markings of violence on him, he was still quite attractive. Inteus tore his eyes away the moment he realized he was checking the guy out, and hopefully Elias would brush it off as well. "I'm gonna head back to the bar in a bit, so, do you want your keys? They're still somewhere in my room, but they shouldn't be too hard to find." Elias hadn't once taken his unblinking eyes off of him and Inteus was starting to get a little uncomfortable. Elias was practically a living marble statue, all effortless grace and unnatural stillness that should probably be illegal, and Inteus still didn't know just what or who this guy was.

  "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to accompany you." He finally answered. "There are still a number of things I need to speak to Aedan about." Inteus offered a one shouldered shrug.

  "Yeah. Yeah, that's okay. I’ll go get dressed."

  The trip back to the bar was uneventful, and the building itself seemed listless now that its' nightly tenants had retired from the dawn. They took the front entrance, the tiny bell ringing clearly as they stepped through, and another familiar face was behind the counter, smiling up at them as they entered.

  "Good morning Inteus. **_Well met, brother_** Elias." Tsering greeted the witch in English, but then switched to a less familiar tongue that Elias seemed to understand.

  " _ **Well met, sister**_ Tsering. You are looking well." He was smiling back at her. "I see you are making use of Xios's gift." Tsering reached up to pat thin air, where Inteus was used to seeing spindly horns which were not quite antelope and not quite tree branches but some strange, delicately sturdy mix of the two, with the same smile.

  "Yes. Your friend is good at...what do you call it? Tech? It is a shame we do not have a word for it in _Chos-skad._ It is very useful. Aedan is pleased I can help in the morning."

  "Xios will be delighted to hear it."

  Inteus left the two old friends to their conversation, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of it either way, while he slipped off to help around.

  While at night, the bar was for the gathering of supernatural beings in the immediate area, _Enchanted Threefold_ was, in the mornings, a quiet, inconspicuous safehouse for any human stragglers who happened to stumble in for safety.

  And not all humans would be pleased to be saved by the supernatural with the history between them.

  "It is strange yes. **_I do not have the precognition my sisters were blessed with,_** but something is wrong. The trees, the earth, they tell me so." Tsering was saying as Inteus tied back his hair to keep the wayward strands out of his face as he worked. Inteus only vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the conversation Elias and Aedan was having the night before. Something about the odd patterns of scattered deadmen, or lack thereof. It really shouldn't have bothered him as much, but the possibility of his normalcy being disrupted irked him somewhat. New New York might not have been much of home but it was the only home he had, a while before the Anno Ruina years began. "You will find out what is wrong, yes? Aedan is very certain." Elias looked like he was grimacing, but Inteus couldn't tell just by occasionally glancing out of the corner of his eyes.

  "Aedan puts too much faith in me. I do not wish to concern myself with these affairs, you know that."

  "Yet all times when Aedan calls, you come."

  Elias was definitely grimacing now, and Inteus understood the feeling of being under the onslaught of Tsering's infallible logic. "It is not the same when I am fulfilling the requests of a…longtime acquaintance."

  The naiad's eyebrows rose.

  "Is it not? All times he asks, **_do you not wonder what he's using the flesh of the undead for_**?" Inteus was losing track of the conversation every time Tsering switched to the other languag, but whatever had been said seemed to go through to Elias. "You know. And Aedan knows you know. You care. Or you would not make an effort." She patted him on his scarred forearm. "You run fast _**brother** _ Elias, _**because you think the past cannot catch you**_ , but there is no use when you go back to where you begin." With a final pat, she left him to his thoughts, smiling serenely at Inteus as she passed like she knew he had been eavesdropping on them.

  Inteus moved closer to where Elias was propped up on the counter, fiddling with the old machinery to get them running. "So I'm guessing you're gonna be staying for a while longer than you thought huh." Elias smiled wanly, dark eyes seemingly ancient and weary, declining the ceramic cup offered to him.

  "It is difficult to refuse Tsering anything." Steam hissed from the machine and it groaned as it came to life.

  "Isn't _that_ the understatement of the century."

  Elias had not moved since he had sat down and Inteus wondered how he could bear to stay so still for so long.

  "...There's been rumors of some activity on the isles if you want to start there."

  Elias's glance up at him was sharp and quick and Inteus tried to look as if he were busy arranging the cups, that his comment was merely one said on a whim, offhanded, unpremeditated like he hadn't been weighing the possibilities of a negative reply to it. But Tsering had smiled at him, knowing, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep his nose out of this, again. The gaze was heavy, calculating, silent, and Inteus wanted to reel his words back in and forget he ever offered, but then the smile flashed quick across Elias's features, a brief curl at the edge of his lips.

  "I hope you won't mind acting as my guide then. It has been many years since I have stepped foot in the city."

  Inteus blinked; this was not what he had been expecting. "But-" He was about to make the excuse about the cafe, but he could almost feel Tsering's reproachful look burning holes into the back of his head.

  "...Might as well." He relented with an exaggerated sigh, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into now. "Don't expect me to be much of one though, it's been literally forever since I've gone out there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes: 
> 
> This work is a fantasy AU of the far off future where humans aren't quite as successful as they thought they would be, and where the supernatural have always actually been a part of that community, so developments have been frozen somewhere around the twenty first and twenty second centuries, and are even possibly in decline. Example; Elias's weapon is a self modified .338 Lapua Magnum SSG, which is actually one of the better long range weapons despite it being a century since 2012. 
> 
> Aedan's Scottish accent is freaking hard to type, please don't kill me.
> 
> *Ye swatch loch jobby = You look like shit.  
> **barnie = fight
> 
> The language that Tsering is speaking in italics is Chos-skad ("religious language") of standard Tibetan. It's actually the language that is used in scriptures and classical works, but being as Tsering is a naiad and had been part of what could be the equivalent of a nunnery, it seemed more likely that she would use that register instead of the vernacular or normal polite speech.


	2. Poison Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pulled half this chapter out of my ass because someone threatened to poke me with a stick if I didn't keep writing o uo// Hooray for more character background (kind of?) and characters who are only mentioned in passing.  
> I should probably add slow build as a tag huh.

_82 A.R. - New New York - The Isle of Hills_

 

   There was little but dust and wind and rubble and still Elias could not shake off the unerring discomfort that settled somewhere behind his eyes, squeezing like a vice, a warning, a whisper. It was quiet, it always was, but sometimes the deadmen came with the silence and you would never realize it until it was too late. 

   "...Okay, I give up, I can't tell."

   It was quiet, except for, of course, Inteus's incessant chatter, and Elias meant it in a good way, honest. He had never met someone still so full of life, still as curious, as the witch, and the scent that followed him (ash and morning dew and methanol, intriguingly tinted with the hint of an unnamed spice that left a burning aftertaste at the back of his throat like feeding hunger and the last rays of sunset to the first star in the sky) told Elias that his companion was not as young as he appeared; a piece of history out of time, just like himself. There were few of them now, very few of those who had lived long enough to remember the time before the first Anno Ruina years, even fewer who had lived before that. Elias realized Inteus was looking at him expectantly and blinked slowly in response, realizing he had no idea where the conversation had been going. "....I apologize. You were saying?" Inteus rolled his eyes.

   "I was  _saying_ , sunshine, I can't tell where you're from." 

 _I can't tell what you are._ Elias could hear the unspoken subtext, but offered nothing to show that he did.

   "Greece." He replied automatically, almost without having to think about it. It didn't matter; he thought about it more than he already should. "....Greece." Inteus repeated flatly. Elias shrugged with a single shoulder, the movement still ridiculously fluid and graceful despite being off-hand and barely given thought to. It wasn't as if he was lying. By all technicalities, he  _was_ from Greece. "Aren't you guys a little more...I dunno..." Inteus was gesturing vaguely at him. "On friendlier terms with the sun?" Elias let out a startled huff of laughter that he couldn't quite hold in, but didn't grace the comment with further explanation. 

   Despite all his questions and his nagging, the gentle whisper of Inteus's sneakered feet over the worn down rubble, was barely audible to Elias, with his finely tuned hearing, and Elias would have been able to forget that Inteus was even there if he didn't say anything. "Come on, not even a hint? You know what  _I_ am." Not so subtle now; Elias must have finally worn down his patience, but he hardly considered it a feat when Inteus looked like he didn't have much to begin with in the first place. 

   "I never asked outright about it." Humor colored his voice, but Inteus wouldn't be able to see the flicker of a smile that passed his features. 

   "You cheated."

   "I was  _intelligent_  about it."

   "...I feel like there's an insult in that."

   "I would never."

   " _Definitely_  an insult then."

   Elias enjoyed the playful banter they had going on; it was as if they had known each other for far longer than they actually had, and Elias attributed half of it to the fact that Aedan had been so at ease around him, and Tsering had been so warm with him, Elias had taken it for granted that this was a person who could be trusted enough, despite barely knowing anything about him. There was a certain, strange charm the witch had, all mild arrogance and brazen confidence and ardent enthusiasm, that Elias rarely saw in anyone; much less anyone who lived in times like these. It was different, magnetic, like a brilliantly burning bonfire. An unwanted whisper in his head, mocking and bitter, reminded him that the brightest of flames sizzled out the quickest, and he quickly turned his attention to other things. The coarse gray drizzle around his shoes turned to the finer grains of sand and he realized that they had crossed the isle and to the carved out shores of the opposite coast. 

   In the distance, Elias could make out a lone hunched over figure knee-deep into the water and his fingers instinctively gripped his rifle before he realized that it wasn't a threat. Maeve straightened, pale sunlight glinting off blue-gray scales that flecked the bare skin of her thighs and salt water making the plumage that decorated her shoulders shine, and it took Elias a few seconds to notice that Inteus wasn't following when he moved closer to talk to her, an odd look (annoyance, distaste, vexed abhorrence) flashing through his eyes like he couldn't decide which one to settle on and his face couldn't quite fit everything into one look. Elias had mistakenly judged the nature of their aversion to each other. Aedan hadn't been very specific and Maeve got into fights all the time, enough that Elias would assume that it was just another problem that would blow over with time. Elias should've realized Inteus would be one to hold grudges. "...Would you prefer to scout the remaining areas?" He questioned, and Inteus's eyes (pale green, poison green) flickered over to him, emotions warring with each other, playing out openly on his face, but before he could reply, Elias could already feel Maeve darting up the shore to them. 

   "Elias!" Her smile was bright and warm, up until the point when her eyes slid over his shoulder and spotted that he wasn't alone; Elias marveled at how quickly, how smoothly, her expression morphed into stone, gentle blue eyes hardening into chips of ice. "Inteus." His name was a hiss, acid dripping from her tongue, the faint dangerous edge of an inhuman lilt woven into the threads of her voice that made her scales ripple over her skin, and the tension between the two was as electric as a live-wire. "Maeve." Inteus replied in kind, just as hostile, just as dangerous, sharp and poisonous and displaying his thoughts about her malevolence like the expanded hood of a threatened cobra, and Elias had definitely severely misjudged the animosity between the two.

   "Maeve, what are you doing out here by yourself?" Elias asked, more sharply than he had intended, but it had Maeve's attention hesitantly fluttering to him, eyes flickering between the two of them, and seemed to struggle to bring herself under control. 

   "I was trying to see if I could contact my Imperator. Thalassa." She added after a moment, a heartbeat, if he had one to measure the silence with, as if the name would mean something to him. It didn't; but the title did. "Aedan told me about...about the strange patterns and, I thought, maybe she might know something about it. She's more sensitive to the toxic levels than we are, because we're on land."

   "The Imperator...but she is still stationed at the Coral Ruins is she not?" Elias arched a brow, even though looking less confused that he actually felt, any thought of chastising her for her carelessness flitting away, replaced by his ever curious nature to learn more about other creatures and their own way of life. Maeve smiled, a tiny quirk of her lips. It was a small step but it was a small step away from the uncontrolled anger from before. "All seafolk are connected to the Imperator, even far off cousins of the merpeople like us sirens. It doesn't matter how far we are from her; when she calls, we hear her and we answer, and vice versa." 

   "Fascinating." Inteus cut in dryly, robbing Elias of the mild interest he had gained, learning new things about the creatures he had known for longer than he would've liked to admit; Maeve eyed him with disgust again and Elias sighed as they took two steps back.

   "And was she of any assistance?" He prompted, wanting to elbow the witch in the gut, but refraining from further injuring an already injured person; he had not forgotten the episode that greeted him the night before, the air that had been permeated of liquor and faerie intoxicants. Elias chanced a sidelong glance at the witch, but there didn't seem to be any trace of the illness that had plagued him before, replaced with a not-so-quiet displeasure and a body language that loudly declared how much he wanted to leave. Maeve shook her head. "Afraid not. There haven't been any toxic spikes as of late, nothing that could've caused strange behavior in the deadmen." Her eyes suddenly flickered downwards, to her toes, a nervous tic, and Elias knew there was something she wasn't tell him. "Anything else of import?" He encouraged, hoping that it was only her hesitation he had to worry about. Her hand fluttered up to the side of her face, lips pursed, as if she were in thought, but Elias recognized the telltale signs of a liar too well to brush it off. "...no, I don't think so." Disappointment made him frown, just slightly, but he turned his head quickly, shoulder-length hair curtaining his face before she could notice. Instead it resulted in Inteus catching brief shift of his expression instead. The witch was suddenly close, too close, broaching the invisible line that made up his personal space, fingers pressed into the inside of his elbow as if it was something natural between them, like they only hadn't just met and this was something they did all the time. Elias wasn't blind to the reaction the maneuver invoked in Maeve, eyes smoldering with barely suppressed rage, silent, threatening to boil over over, but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around Inteus's response to his letdown, how the witch seemed to know he needed a way out of the conversation.

   "Then we don't have to spend all day talking to you right?" Inteus smiled, all teeth and very little humor, words dusted with something saccharine sweet that wasn't quite sugar. "Eli and I have  _so_ much more to do, you know. Things that don't involve you." Six centuries of experience with living beings really couldn't have prepared him for this, because there was a certain way Inteus worded it, the sly dip of his tone over the shorthand of his name, that left too much room for the imagination to take a detour down the proverbial gutter even in the few words he had spoken, and if Elias's heart could still circulate blood, he might have actually blushed. He could still feel the pressure of Inteus's fingers on his arm even though the witch had already let him go.

   Maeve was less amused by the implications. 

   "You _slut_." She snarled, and Elias realized there was more to their disagreement than he thought he understood.

   "Takes one to know one, sweetheart." The insult seemed to bounce right off Inteus’s offhand demeanor, angled in a way that threw it right back to Maeve.

    Her eyes flashed, anger and hatred, and Elias could feel the shift in the air that was the familiar tug of siren song and this was not going to end well whatever Inteus's power, and he could feel it crackling in response to Maeve's threat, ready to lunge. " _I'm going to cut out your tongue._ " The siren hissed, her voice cracking at the edges and grating against her throat and there was suddenly a knife in Inteus's other hand, hilt twirling over his wrist as his expression goaded her on. "Oh goodie, I've been meaning to find a lab rat." And the magnitude of the electrifying rush between them set Elias's teeth on edge and if they _didn't stop_ -

   "You will stop this _right now._ "

   Everything jerked to a sudden halt and the energy from the clash of wills was snuffed out so quickly Elias almost - almost - gasped for air when it felt like the iron band around his lungs eased off and disappeared like it was never there, but he  _still_ didn't need to breathe and all that happened was a tingle in his spine from the weight of his own words, his gift-curse-responsibility, and he grimaced because he hadn't meant to do that. Not to Inteus and certainly not to Maeve, because he had promised; promised both Aedan and Tsering he would never use his ability on any of them, but in the heat of the moment his control had slipped and there was the bitter aftertaste of dominance on his tongue. Maeve looked stricken and confused, because she only had a vague impression of his ability, and Inteus had fixed him with a  _look_ he couldn't quite place. "We shouldn't be reckless. Not out here." Elias grasped for the words to smooth over the aftershock, to will them to push the slip up out of their minds. "Maeve, if you have concluded your business, you should return to the  _Enchantments._ I'm certain Tsering would appreciate the assistance. Inteus and I must finish…patrolling." He didn’t like the word choice, but it was essentially what they were doing. Maeve looked like she was going to protest and Elias could still feel the intense heat of Inteus's gaze burning into the side of his head - and he knew very intimately what being burned felt like - but his look must have conveyed something and she nodded jerkily, and spun on her heel to skirt around them and up the way they had come, with a last scathing glare at Inteus. 

   The wind shuffled, skittering across his skin and carrying with it Maeve's salt and iron scent as she disappeared between the ruins. However, Inteus didn't immediately start his barrage of questions and was unusually silent, even as Elias turned down the coast and followed the line of the tide to the north of the isles, and fell into the steps he left behind. 

   "Are you not curious?"

   It was his own turn to start the conversation, minutes into their quiet trek. Inteus might have been surprised, hovering somewhere behind his shoulder, but he couldn't tell. "Never said I wasn't." Inteus admitted. "But you're probably gonna ask me why I don't get along with Miss Little Mermaid if I do, and that's a session of twenty questions no amount of satisfaction can bring  _that_ dead cat back." A hint of a smile threatened the corners of Elias's lips.

   "I didn't realize there was still anyone who knew the full rhyme." 

   "Are you kidding, that's my life motto."

   A semblance of their earlier companionship had returned, much to Elias's relief. He wasn't sure how he would be able to focus on anything else if he had been constantly worrying over Inteus's reaction and thoughts, so he was in a safe zone for now; but for how much longer? He was steering himself through dangerous waters with a broken rudder. He only hoped his little boat wouldn't spring any leaks before he spotted the shore.

   There was nothing important to be noted, and Elias had made sure they had done a full sweep of the isles, and by that time, half-day was passing and the partially concealed sun was doing nothing to help the constant sapping of his energy, like a greedy leech that thrived off his sluggishness. It was Inteus who offered for them to return to the _Enchantments_ when their worries over the quiet whispers were sated and the rumors turned out to be just that. Elias couldn't remember agreeing, but somehow they had returned to the shade of the taller buildings, less in ruin. Inteus had sped up when the cafe came into view, Elias dragging his feet behind him as he basked in the rare, mildly chilly breeze that sent dead leaves spiraling across what had been sidewalks, tumbling over his boots, catching in the wild curls of his hair. He reached up to card his fingers through the wayward strands, curl them around the dry fronds and remove them, but they met with something softer, sleeker. He pulled the curious object away and frowned at the ruffled feather in the palm of his hand. It appeared to be a flight feather, a remige, pure white without any insert of color, like those of doves. There was an odd feeling stirring in his chest the longer he looked at it; it didn't feel natural. It didn't feel right. He concluded that it must have come loose from Maeve's siren form; doves, and most of the other birds, among the rest of the living creatures, had chosen to abandon the ares where toxic hit the hardest, like the cities. Their survival instinct was much superior than humans. There couldn't be animals in New New York. 

   He pocketed the feather, a mildly depressing reminder, and ducked into the cafe.

⋘⋞↻ . . . . . . . . . . . . . ↺⋟⋙

_?? ?? - ????_

 

    _He remembered what it was like, waking up again for the first time, but he hadn't expected this now, not really. Everything was dreamy and solid all at once, and like swimming with your eyes open so that you had a vague estimation of how close you were to a coral reef but unable to tell the difference between any of the living creatures darting among the carved out patterns. The only difference was, here, he couldn't see a thing. Darkness enveloped him like a blanket made out of black wool but he didn't need to see to know - remember - where he was. _He was boxed in, the traditional way, barely enough room for him to maneuver but he had somehow  wedged his arms - thin, pitifully thin, but oh so strong, so unnaturally, inhumanly strong - between his body and what was most likely the lid._ His breath had been short - body still remembering life, not quite there yet but still so far away from the other end of the spectrum - fingers clawing, clawing through the wood even when splinters began prickling the soft - hardened - skin under the nails with the desperation of a man - boy - struggling to survive, struggling to think, to remember the training and the lessons and the strict voice of the High Elder reminding him what to do, what they would have done._

_He would have been buried upside down, so clawing upwards would bring him nowhere fast, so he went forward, gouging and muffling the sound of his own ragged breathing and the tiny sound as the wood finally, finally gave way to soft earth and the smell of metal - iron, his brain supplemented - and forest pine. His fingers were mostly numb, pinpricks of feeling all over his arms as he closed his hands around the edges of the hole he had made, mindless to the pain stabbing into his palms as he pulled and pulled, clumps of earth falling into his prison and he barely remembered to just stop breathing so that he wouldn't accidentally inhale the dirt. He probably shouldn't have been too far off from the surface; they wouldn't have put him down far because the traditional depth was something very deep but the High Elder had told him there wouldn't be enough time for all of the traditions and he wouldn't have to endure much of the panicky 'what if I'm going the wrong way?' many newborn went through for too long._

_It didn't stop him from feeling just that as he plowed onward and outward, but never feeling anything more than soil and more soil, the tang of iron in the back of his throat, on the tip of his tongue even while everything burned and he thirsted and_ hungered  _like he never had before._

_It didn't stop the sob of relief that broke from somewhere deep inside him as the dirt finally, finally gave way and his fingers felt no more to dig through, and he didn't even care that the sound left him wide open for a mouthful of overturned earth because cold hands had closed over his own and he heard the muffled thrum of voices as the grip tightened and he was suddenly breaking through, stars and torchlight a razor-blade against his new, sensitive eyes (he hissed, a strangely, dangerously elegant sound from his equally new, equally sensitive, parched throat, trying to twist away but the grip on his wrist was too tight, comfortable and vaguely familiar), everything pressing in and squeezing like they were welcoming him home even though it was the same earth, same sky, same faces that came into view as he finally adjusted._

_His very skin was on fire, veins burning as if completely dry of the blood that once ran through them, a searing pain in his teeth and jaw and the tingling in his wounded hands that would have to be tended to, but the High Elder was smiling at him, something like warmth and the look of a proud parent in the tired lines of his ageless face because he had been_ successful _, and everything seem inconsequential. The High Elder reached out his hand and the cool of his dry palm felt like liquid relief against the raging heat underneath his very skin._

_"You have returned."_

_And those simple words were everything that he needed to hear._

⋘⋞↻ . . . . . . . . . . . . . ↺⋟⋙

_82 A.R. - New New York_

 

   Elias registered the cracked, paved ceiling long before his consciousness returned to him long enough for him to actually  _realize_ that he was staring at a ceiling and not the open, blue-black velvet, star-studded expanse of the sky just before the sun disappeared below the horizon. His mind whirred as he grappled with the fragments of his thoughts, scattered by a restless sleep and old dreams he believed he long stopped having. He couldn't remember the last time he dreamed, but then again it wasn't like he ever had the luxury of a good sleep out in the open, no rest longer than a few hours maybe, if he could find proper shelter in dusty ruins with no ceilings and barely enough walls. He shifted, his back sliding over the protruding bumps of the lumpy couch which he indistinctly remembered curling up on the evening before; probably the evening before, as it was the first time in forever* that he had actually lost track of time, slept long and deep enough to not have a good enough grasp on the hours, minutes, seconds that had passed. He rolled over onto his side, sliding a hand underneath his head, as he refocused on his surroundings. The mess of colorful, bottled liquids and messy personal library reminded him that he was still camping out in Inteus's studio apartment instead of his own room, and the quiet humming from outside the door frame and from the general direction of the library told him that the witch was already up and about. It was his own fault really, not reminding Inteus about the keys. Elias felt as if he would feel guilty, for some reason. There was still that incessant tugging deep in his nature, whispering for him to run, leave, drop everything again because he didn't fit here, didn't fit anywhere, not anymore, not since the creatures that had raised him as their own started dropping like flies and the trail of the dead ended up leading to an  _x-marks-the-spot_ being painted on the back of his head. If he took the keys, he would have to face Aedan to give them back, and he wouldn't be able to bear the look of mild disappointment the faerie would give him and no matter what he said, to Aedan, to himself, he was too much of a coward to do so.

   Selfishly, he stayed, the mantra in his mind reminding him that this was not a permanent agreement, he was only be staying to make Aedan eat his words, that he could too stay settled for long enough if he wanted to. 

   The humming had grown incessant and Elias figured that he wasn't going to get much more of sleep anyways. The dream left a strange taste in the back of his throat, a taste of ash and iron and bitter disgruntlement, and made him feel like he was centuries younger, a phantom heartbeat rapid against his ribs, the ghost of a sheen of sweat drying on his skin, breath forcing movements to his lungs, inhale, exhale, inhale, like he was calming himself down from a fit of asthma. He sat up, amazed at how fluid his movements still were, lifting a hand level with his line of sight, and it wasn't even trembling. He was so  _still_ _,_ he marveled, like living marble, could've even passed for a statue if he had been riddled with less wounds. But that had been what they had wanted, wasn't it? To be made of stone, immortal, eternal, to live forever while the rest of the world crashed and burned. He had been idealistic then, and he had long paid the price for it.

   Gently shifting his increasingly sore body off the couch, he followed the humming and was greeted by the sight of Inteus leaned over the kitchen counter, measuring out acidic scenting liquid into a teacup, tongue between his lips in a curiously endearing fashion that made Elias want to smile and at the same time drag him over to find out what he tasted like. He was playing with a dangerous line of thought again, and he blamed it on being around much needed company after a long while of not-quite-solitude-but-close-enough (after all, Septimus had Asha and Alexios had Khamael and he had only ever been the fifth wheel, the outsider, the one who had brought reality crashing down on their little fantasy world) and their run in with Maeve the day before. Inteus probably hadn't meant anything with his words, and was only helping him out of a situation. The tune morphed into something familiar and Elias was asking before his sleep-addled brain could put a filter to his words.

   "Are you singing _Toxic_?"

   He couldn't help the tone of amused incredulity that seemed into his voice and Inteus's hands jerked badly enough that the purple sludge he was tipping carefully into the teacup nearly flopped out of the spoon; Elias almost felt bad for surprising him, but less so when Inteus sent him a withering look from his position, because it was replaced with more amusement. "I'm  _humming_." The witch sniffed, but didn't contradict Elias's question-accusation. "What's wrong with Britney Spears? Her songs are practically traditional ballads by now. I'm being _classy_." Elias tried to hide a smile and failed, but successfully stemmed the huff of laughter that threatened to escape. "And don't sneak up on me like that, I might accidentally kill you or something." Inteus had turned back to his experiment, and couldn't have seen the way the mirth drained out of his expression in the span of half a second, the world sharply coming back into focus. 

   "I'm going to see if Aedan requires assistance today."

   Elias turned stiffly, politely brief with his words, and disappeared back into the living room to retrieve his rifle, not quickly enough so that he didn't see the way Inteus glanced back over his shoulder at him, eyebrow arched in a baffled question he didn't want to answer. It was bad enough he let Aedan deal with him when he was like this, and Elias didn't want to let anyone else bear that burden. It wasn't Inteus's fault he didn't know, and Elias felt slightly bad that he had ruined what could have been an offhand conversation with his abrupt exit. 

   "D'you want me to come with?" 

   Inteus was still in the kitchen but his voice followed Elias into the other room anyway, and Elias didn't understand why he hesitated when he should've immediately answered 'no,' and it almost felt as if he _wanted_ Inteus to come. His fingers twitched, his grip on the rifle strap wavering the tiniest bit. "...You seem occupied. I believe I can make it to _Enchanted_ on my own." There was a pause as words came unbidden into his mind and he struggled to choose between saying them and keeping silent. "There is less chance of accidentally being killed." Inteus's responding snort was anything but attractive but the knot of tension in Elias's shoulders loosened at the sound, briefly, before he tensed up again because the sound of the witch's amusement shouldn't have made him feel that relaxed.  

   "You gonna take long?" Elias hoisted the rifle onto his shoulder as the sound of clattering tableware and rattled cabinets replaced the quiet. "I am not certain. At the very least, a few hours. Perhaps most of the day." He reemerged and Inteus seemed to be rummaging through the kitchen drawers with the ferocity of one possessed. "It will depend on whether or not I will-" Inteus upended one of the drawers onto the counter and odds and ends and some curious bits bounced off and rolled to the floor. "-have the time to survey the border markers-" Something that looked suspiciously like a eyeball tumbled precariously close to the teacup; he hoped Inteus wasn't planning on forcing the drink on anyone. "-Inteus, what are you doing?" 

   "I have night shift." Inteus made a noise of victory as he closed his fingers around something small and rust-colored, and Elias wanted to tell him how that didn't explain anything at all. "Which means whatever time you get back, I won't be here and I'm not leaving the door unlocked so that any idiot can waltz in and break everything. It took me ages to get all this shit together, and wards can only go so far." The witch flicked his wrist and Elias was snatching the object out of the air instinctively before it could hit his face. The edges of a small copper key dug into his palm. "That's the  _only_ spare I have, and if you lose it, I'm poisoning your coffee." 

   Elias couldn't help that strange feeling that returned, gnawing at his guts. He hadn't said anything the first time, when Inteus had woken up that morning and let slip his assumption that Elias would be staying, figuring it to be a false alarm; Inteus hadn't known what he was saying and Elias had spared him the embarrassment of being corrected. He said nothing about the unspoken assumption now, only because It was harder this time around to say anything, and Elias  _had_ camped out in his apartment for two nights in a row now. And either way, it would be easier for him to slip away if he didn't have to return the key to the apartment Aedan had given him. 

   He refused to admit that he was relieved, in a way, that Inteus wasn't kicking him out because he actually  _did_ enjoy the witch's company, when compared to possibly having to be alone in a silent apartment that was too much space for him to ever have in one area.

   "Then I should guard it with my life." 

   And it was worth it when Inteus grinned, all dangerously sharp edges that Elias could've cut himself on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Footnotes:  
> Awkward babies are awkward.  
> No informative footnotes at the moment because if I put any down here now, I'll be spoiling the whole story and I' m not that cruel. Or you guys could just ask me questions in the comments and I'll see if I'll be able to respond to them in the notes in the next chapter.  
> Also, Toxic totally fits Inteus and I wasn't about to pass up a Doctor Who reference, because Inteus would've totally been a fandom person before the apocalypse and he'd have his own tumblr account and everything.  
> This chapter is stupid, bleh. 
> 
> *THIS IS NOT A REFERENCE TO THE FROZEN SONG, JESUS CHRIST IF ONE MORE PERSON ASKS ME THAT


	3. Witch-King of New New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((you all better thank CMTaylor for practically beating this chapter out of me with the stick  
> jk jk you're awesome <33))
> 
> I still feel super iffy about it, but then again I'll be saving the major overhaul editing once I'm done with the work anyways.
> 
> Happy Valentines Day everyone, have some zombies and gore ;D

_82 A.R. - New New York_

 

  The knocking should've signaled to Inteus that something was wrong because he _did_ just give Elias the spare (he was sure that one was the spare because he didn't have a lot of things he kept locked up and shouldn't have had any keys other than the one for the door, but you never knew) and Aedan was never really so polite. He supposed it was because he was still reeling a little from the morning's events that everything else just seemed to slip his mind, and he simply _forgot_ to be wary as he strode over to the door and yanked it open.

   "....well shit."

   The lanky blond leaning against the door frame smiled wider, a grin sharper than his own that left a trail of frost down his spine. "As much as I'm _flattered_ at your reaction, Tea, believe it or not I'm actually not here to aggravate you today."

  Inteus rolled his eyes, but the cold hand that rested too low on his lower back didn't disappear. "Of course you aren't. What do you want, Zenos?"

  Zenos pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, but the effect was ruined by the leer.

  "You wound me, darling. Why would you assume I want anything?"

  "Because you always want something."

  Inteus nevertheless stepped back to allow the too-tall blonde into his apartment. " _Asshole._ " He muttered under his breath as he closed the door.

  "Unpleasant as ever I see."

   Zenos had draped himself over one of the chairs and Inteus kicked a cardboard box full of his latest experiments under the counter. "Can't tell if you're talking about me or the place." Inteus directed his glare at the crack in the opposite wall. Zenos leered over the counter-top, but ignored the jibe.

  "Anyways, like I said, I'm visiting for a real reason. Honest." The blond hummed, leaning his chin on his palm, and the weight of his gaze seemed different somehow; Inteus wasn't quite used to Zenos being seriously intense, so he broke the tension the only way he knew how.

  "That's what you said the last few times you came around. Your girlfriend already wants my head on a fucking silver platter, you dick."

  Zenos grinned, wide and untrustworthy, like a shark flashing off his fangs. "Maeve is so easy to rile up though~"

  "And you keep doing this to me on purpose." Inteus didn't know what to do with his hands; even though his arms were crossed, there was an electric current running through his fingers that made him feel restless. "So? Get to the point. Contrary to popular belief I don't actually have the time to entertain people all day, especially people like you."

  "Fine, you're no fun." Zenos looked like he was about to pout, so Inteus averted his gaze again. "There have been rumors circulating around...but you know me, ever the realist." Inteus rolled his eyes at that, but it was ignored. "I just wanted to make sure it was credible before pursuing it, is all."

  "So what do you need _me_ for?" Inteus grumbled, clenching and unclenching his hands as if he could chase away the errant tingling, half expecting electricity to spark from his fingertips. "I don't do gossip, Zenos, I'm a witch, not one of your servant girls."

  "Not only _you,_ obviously. I'm asking around, just in case anyone knows someone who might know what's going on."

  Inteus went still because he could almost taste the unspoken intention in the air.

  "You haven't heard anything lately have you?" Zenos asked nonchalantly. "Any of your friends in the Vertical Gardens? Your witch-king maybe?" And Inteus could hardly help the way he scowled out of a deep-rooted instinct, stormy and defensive and miffed all at once.

  "Jezan is a _Kaitzari_ , you disrespectful Elementalist space herpe, not some high fantasy cursed mortal."

  He immediately turned heel so that Zenos wouldn't be able to see the conflict of emotions that would definitely appear on his face. "And no I haven't." Suspicion reared its head just half a second later. "Why do you ask?"

  "No reason." Zenos replied cheerfully; too cheerfully, too quickly, and even though Inteus wasn't looking at Zenos, he knew the Elementalist was lying.

  "If you say so." Inteus carefully imitated Zenos's nonchalance and moved a dirty plate into the sink.

  "Yes, well, if you haven't, then that's fine." There was the sound of the chair moving across the tiled floor. "Just thought I'd drop by to say hello too. You've been doing well?" Inteus scoffed.

  "I'm living in a closet in the middle of a dead city with very _not_ dead things that _should_ be dead roaming the streets, there are still human traditionalists who still think the rest of the supernatural community is the bigger threat, and I suffer through the occasional night shift with your psychotic girlfriend while I'm sober. I'm _fine_."

  Zenos snorted in mirth inelegantly.

  "Speaking of which, night shift is in half an hour. Fuck off. I don't need your ignorant white boy ass in here messing up my stuff while I'm dealing with drunk faerie." Inteus turned back around and made shooing motions with his hands. Zenos had the gall to looked mock-miffed.

  "To be fair, I'm not technically white; Elementalists are descended from a privileged line with roots in-"

  " _Out._ "

  Zenos raised his hands in defense, palms outward. "Alright, alright, I"m going." The blond moved back and towards the door.  "See you around, Tea."

  "Don't bet on it blondie."

  The apartment door closed silently behind Zenos's exit and Inteus let his mask drop, a deep frown replacing his apathy, the tingling in his fingers growing so strong he couldn't help but wring his hands. The Elementalist's words had planted a seed of concern in his mind and now he knew he wouldn't be able to go to work with the worry deep-rooted in his gut.

   " _Son of a bitch_." He hissed, throwing open the cupboard doors so hard the bowls rattled, and a handful of spices tumbled out.

 

* * *

 

  Fingers were snapped in front of his face and Inteus scowled instinctively, moving to slap the hand away, but Maeve was faster, jerking away the moment he twitched. "Don’t drift off." She sniffed, not even using his name as if even talking to him was beneath her, before she whirled around, dark forest of hair whipping behind her like a family of snakes.

  Inteus stuck out his tongue behind her like a petulant child.

  The sound of the rowdy bar slowly permeated his regained consciousness, drawing him back from his troubled thoughts like a fog lifting from his mind, and he remembered that he didn’t have the time to be distracted. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice the way his attention was drawn by the occasional flash of dark hair in the corner of his eyes, the vaguely bittersweet taste of not-really-disappointment when it wasn’t a certain scarred, pale-skinned individual. He didn’t understand the brief pique of his interest even when he knew that there was no way Elias would be there because he obviously said he was going to be on border patrol.

  He didn’t understand his interest in the eloquent, surprisingly charismatic enigma that was Aedan’s incredibly-attractive-despite-the-scarring (''Friend,'' the fae had rolled his eyes when Inteus had asked, looking mildly exasperated when Elias shot him a look from under ridiculously delicate lashes) acquaintance that was enough to make him feel charitable enough not to kick the guy off his couch after the first night 'rooming' together.

  Not at all.

  ...okay so his tendency to forget to look past good looks got him into trouble a lot of the time (ergo, Zenos), but he was almost ninety percent sure Elias wasn’t a bad _guy_.

  Inteus ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to distract himself, but his eyes merely landed on Maeve, flirting openly with one of the patrons, and he was reminded of his run in with her the day before, which consequently reminded him of Elias’s curious ability; if it could even be called that.

  Inteus would have normally chalked it up to coincidence, but for the sudden, unreasonable heaviness on his tongue the moment Elias had snapped at them to stop fighting, the obscure and irresistible desire to _obey_ that he hadn't felt since leaving home.

  On the other side of the room, a drunken faerie threw a chair at another, prompting the second to leap over the table and tackle the first, causing the others to back up, forming a circle around the brawlers, encouraging them on in inebriated confusion, and Inteus sighed, slipping away from the bar towards the scuffling creatures, shouldering his way through the onlookers to the center of ring.

  "Alright, alright, break it up fellas." He dug his fingers into the light-haired fae’s shoulder, wedging himself between the second, who was trying to bite the first, who had his nails digging into the other’s scalp and tugging none too gently. The fae twisted in his grip, trying to get back at each other, but Inteus was made of wiry muscle and built on years of running for his life through unforgivable landscapes in worse conditions, and held against the intoxicated scrabbling until they grew tired, going limp in his hold. Satisfied, he pulled them away from each other, and someone scrambled to right the overturned furniture while the crowd started to disperse, disappointed. The fae he was still holding flailed away from Inteus’s hands, glaring with a glazed gaze as he tried to right himself.

  "Don’ touch me." The relatively young looking fae spat, Darkling or Unseelie by appearance, trying to sound menacing but failing when he slurred, pale purple skin tinged indigo across his face from the alcohol. " _Satan’s whore_."

  Inteus froze, and the rest of the bar seemed to fade away as his vision tunneled; he didn’t notice how the crowd stopped as well, tethering on the edge of returning like hounds on the scent of blood.

  "What did you say?" He asked, voice pitched treacherously low, eyes narrowing as if daring the fae to repeat himself, even while the logical part of him reasoned that the creature wasn’t in his right mind and Inteus would gain nothing if he held a grudge over words spoken under influence of substance.

  The crowd had definitely returned, but now that the fae’s opponent wasn’t as equally drunk, and far more dangerous than his original one, they kept their distance, no longer cheering. The rest of the bar seemed precariously silent.

  "I _said_ ," the fae didn’t seem to realize the danger he was in, stumbling close to exhale a breath that stank of stale liquor in Inteus’s deceptively impassive face. "Satan’s _who-_ "

  It was as far as he went before Inteus’s fist in his face shattered the silence of bated breath and the bystanders went up in a roar, deafened by the rushing waterfall in his ears. The rest of his body followed the movement, tackling the fae to the ground in the moment he was stunned. He couldn’t even see the fae’s face, only felt it when the bones of a nose and jaw shattered under his hands. Sparks danced along his knuckles when blood splattered along his cheek, as he drew his fist back from another punch, and another. He grabbed the fae by the collar of his shirt, eyes dark with the promise of more violence. "If you _ever_ disrespect my practice again, I will _cut off your balls and nail you to the rafters by your fucking dick, twinkletoes._ " And there were suddenly hands gripping his elbow, his shoulders, pulling him back and away.

  Inteus loosed a well-aimed kick at the pitiful mound of fae that he was certain landed on a rib or two.

  "Get off.”

  He muttered, dislodging the hands on him and storming away from the scene.

  Inteus slammed the first aid kit onto the twisted, black metal coffee table Aedan insisted on keeping in the backrooms, glowering as he retrieved the bandages and rubbing alcohol, white-hot rage prickling along his spine and along his nerves and causing the items to rattle on the tabletop. He had let himself forget, protected in this close-knit community he had, protected by Aedan and Tsering, that there were still those even in the supernatural community that saw witches as devil-worshipers, Satan's emissaries, with close bonds to the veins of black magic that corrupted and continued to corrupt the world. If he was angry, he was only ever angry at himself for being lulled by brief periods of peace to think otherwise.

  "That was certainly an...interesting thing to be welcomed with."

  Inteus whirled around, initial anger dimming to be replaced with surprise.

  "What are you doing here already?" He half demanded, bewilderment coloring his voice.

  The figure lurking in the shadows that he hadn't noticed in his fury smiled sheepishly as he stepped into the firelight, and as Inteus's eyes adjusted, three more seemed to melt out of the darkness behind him.

  "Hello, Tea. It's been quite a while."

 

* * *

 

    _The room smelled of sandalwood and dried roses now, and Inteus wrinkled his nose at the heavily perfumed scent as he settled the ingredients on the table around the shiny black bowl filled to the brim with completely black liquid. The candle flame flickered with his movement as he traced inverted pentagrams with red wax, murmuring under his breath, before putting the candle down at the true north point. He held his hand, palm up, over the bowl, pressing a knife against his palm._

_" **I** **will that this mirror be filled with blood energy. With my own power and with the power of subservience, I enter the presence of the Kaitzari.** "_

_The sharp edge of the knife drew a thin line of blood, and he turned his palm, closing a fist, and counting the drops that escaped him._

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_He snatched his hand away, and the ripples leveled out faster than he could blink._

_The mirror-smooth darkness shifted, like the lens of a camera widening until black was replaced by grey and blue and red and the familiar face of someone he didn't think he would see in a long time to come._

_"Inteus."_

_Inteus felt like recoiling at the mild, pleasantly surprised tone Jezan used to say his name._

_"...your majesty." He replied reluctantly, to which Jezan rolled his eyes._

_"Please," the male on the other end of the connection spoke dryly. "Don't hurt yourself." Inteus couldn't help the smile that threatened his lips. "To what do I owe this delightful event? I had believed you wouldn't contact me again for quite some time, and even then I was under the notion I would have to initiate it."  The raven-haired male was as he always seemed to have been, direct, mild, vaguely amused like he had a constant inside joke with the world that no one else seemed to understand. And, as always, when Inteus saw him, a flash of guilt prickled his consciousness._

_"I was...concerned." He chose his words carefully, rolling them in his mind before he said them, which felt strange for someone who always spoke whatever was on his mind the moment he thought it. "There were rumors of change. Of...danger. I needed to make sure that every..." ("Everyone," unspoken words that lingered at the edge of his teeth) "...everything was okay. The speculation makes me feel uncomfortable."_

_Jezan didn't answer him right away and that in itself made it more unbearable than anything._

_"...No, there hasn't been anything specifically disturbing." He answered after a while, a gentle crease marring his otherwise unlined face. "But it has been quiet as of late. Ever since..." There was a slightly longer pause. "A certain event. I didn't think it was important." At Inteus's questing looking, the Kaitzari lifted a single shoulder in a fluid shrug. "It was nothing drastic. The humans in the villages merely...had their eyes opened."_

_Inteus_ _snorted until he realized that Jezan was not joking._

_"You're kidding. Those old geezers?" He realized he was a little heavy on the incredulousness but years of growing up halfway across the world in the traditionalist cluster of human villages was not what one would call a good environment to cultivate open minds._

_"There_ has _been a certain...change in governance here." Jezan's smile grew a little more mysterious, a little fond, but returned to seriousness like a lightning strike. "But there was something off about it. I'm still uncertain as to what it was, but I'm hoping it is only a feeling." Inteus hoped so as well, but he didn't bet on it; it didn't bode well if Jezan could feel something wrong._

_"Enough about that. It is most likely to be the weather getting to me. How have you been faring?" Jezan immediately changed topic, and even thought Inteus could see the diversion for what it was, he allowed himself to be steered off course._

_"I've been good." Inteus adopted the Kaitzari's former dry tone. "City air does wonders here. You should come visit sometime. Compare notes on the differences of forest zombies and urban zombies."_

_Jezan laughed, low and warm and_ home _but Inteus squashed any feelings of nostalgia before they could spread._

_"I'm afraid I can't leave the Gardens unattended, Inteus. The coven has grown quite a bit since you...your absence." Inteus felt a stab of guilt but ignored it, like he always did. "But fear not, you'll have someone to compare notes with very soon." Another brief fond smile._

 

* * *

 

"All better." The girl smiled as she patted the bandage into place and Inteus muttered a quiet thanks when she straightened, practically sitting on his other hand to hide the bandaged cut from earlier.

  "Good to know you haven't changed all this time." Willem grinned at him from over her shoulder and Inteus glowered up at the younger male, but he had already turned his eyes to his female companion with an even brighter smile.

  "Don't talk like you wouldn'tve done the same in my position." He grumbled, flexing his fingers. "Drunken _fucker_. I should've caved his face in." He still felt hot and cold when the words returned, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind, overlapping with the more malicious memories of his childhood, but a hand clasped his shoulder and shook him firmly.

  "No curse." Korbin insisted dutifully, looking miffed. "Bad language. _Ist unhöflich_."

  "I see your familiar has expanded on his speech." Inteus's tone dipped into sarcasm, but the dark-eyed male merely preened as the dry tone flew right over his head.

  "Don't be mean, he's learning." Willem insisted, and the other female hovering at Korbin's elbow shot Inteus a withering look.

  "Unt at least he haz zee senze not to break a customer's face." She snipped, and Inteus noted the heavier accent in her tone, heavier than Willem's and the other girl's; an accent that reminded him somewhat of home.

  "Who are you and why are you sticking your nose in my business again?" He leveled her with a narrow-eyed, impatient look. "Meddling in other people's affairs, _ist unhöflich_." He mock-parroted Korbin and caused the girl to bristle, irritated, which in turn made him feel a little bit better.

  "Be nice." Willem chided, and Inteus noted with no small amount of distaste the way the other witch had entwined his fingers with the first girl's, shooting her a small smile. "This is Margarette, and her sister-"

  "Johanna." The second cut off his introduction herself, still looking sour and distrustful, and Inteus couldn't help but want to add fuel to the fire.

  "A pleasure, I'm sure." He replied flatly, and immediately turned his attention back to Willem to not allow her the satisfaction of getting in a splutter of indignation. Willem rolled his eyes like he was used to Inteus's behavior, and it went unsaid between them that he was, but didn't say anything. "Jezan told me you were coming. I suspect he wouldn't have spoiled the surprise if I hadn't weaseled it out of him, but I made sure to get the stuff you needed. It's back at my place, but if you can spare a couple hours, my shift'll be over soon and I’ll show you the way. Also I should introduce you to the owner when he gets back from patrol. He'd be furious if he didn't get the chance to meet you."

  Willem looked like he was about to answer, or question him, but there was a sudden wailing alarm that had Inteus immediately shooting to his feet, cursing a string of profanities. Korbin did a full body flinch, pressing his hands to his ears.

  "What's going on?" Willem demanded, as Inteus hurried to the closet, unmindful of his new bandages as he retrieved a well-worn leather messenger bag from a coat hook, fastening all the straps on tight and as close to his body as possible, and trying to keep his balance as he sturggled to grab a handful of mountain ash. He could hear the patrons half-panicking, half getting ready to fight, Maeve's voice rising with siren-song to keep them from completely freaking out.

  "Something undead’s gotten past one of the wards, I have to go check it out." The last strap was buckled into place to keep the bag from bouncing when he ran. "Stay here. Stay low. _Don't_ argue." He pointed a finger at Willem's face when the younger witch looked like he was about to do just that. "This isn't the Gardens and I can't be watching your back _and_ deal with those assholes at the same time. I might not be a part of the coven anymore, but Jezan will still skin my ass if I let anything happen to you." The fact that he worried about Willem more than he'd like to admit went unspoken. "I'll be back before you can say Key of Solomon." He reached out to ruffle Willem's already messy curls and mused at how tall the other had gotten; the lighter-skinned male had a couple inches on him now, lanky and more mature than the boy in his memories, who could barely cast a simply pyrokinetic spell.

  But Willem shattered the brief moment of nostalgia, smirking. "Key of So-"

  "You know what I mean, you little shit."

  And Inteus couldn't help the fact that he sounded completely fond of Willem even completely irritated with him at the same time, shoving him in the shoulder with a certain amount of care, before pulling his head down to press their foreheads together briefly. "We’ll catch up when I get back yeah?" Willem grumbled his assent, allowing himself to be babied for the moment, beofre Inteus drew away. "Keep the door to the bar closed no matter what; they can't get over the cast line of the walls, and they're too dumb to guess the password, so you'll be safe here even if they get past the inner wards. Don't talk to any stranger, and especially not that bitchy one with the long hair and the butt." He didn't wait for a reply before he closed the door behind him and braved the throng of panicking supernaturals, where Maeve was still calling for order, into the outside world.

  It was oddly chilly tonight.

  The thought came to mind as he dashed through the ashy ruins of what once had been New York, past badly patched together husks of what had been solid buildings.

  It was cold and eerie and too quiet, and it seemed tonight that everything was trying to remind him of _home._

  He stopped at the center junction of their warded community and scattered the ash in a vague circle around him. It made him a little uncomfortable when he couldn't purify an area before casting a circle, but he was running on borrowed time.

  " _ **I conjure thee, o circle of power, that thou be’est a light for my path; a shield to my thoughts; a boundary between men and their mockery.**_ "

  The ash lit up in flames, burning hot and bright and fast, extinguishing just as quickly and leaving almost no trace. Red ember sparks were slow to fade in the ash towards Inteus's left hand, pinpointing the vague direction of the break in the wards, and he turned to dash in the direction it pointed him in. The streets rushed by in a blur, his heartbeat hard in his ears.

  He was so focused on the task he forgot that there was also a patrol - until he almost literally ran into Elias, who caught him before they could crash into each other.

  "Careful."

  "My bad."

  They spoke at the same time and Elias laughed, a low and quiet sound that made Inteus feel irrationally pleased with himself, despite the other’s amusement having very little to do with himself.

  "Uh," he stepped back, away from Elias's touch, trying to compose his strange thoughts. "Yeah. The alarm."

  Elias nodded. "I was on route to analyze the situation as well."

  Inteus followed the movement, and then realized that Elias was by himself.

  "Where's Aedan and the others?" He frowned. "He didn't let you patrol _alone_?"

  "I am perfectly able by myself. _You_ , on the other hand," Elias gave him a reproachful look. "Should not be running to a break in the outer wards unassisted."

  Inteus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm no damsel in distress and there really wasn't enough time to grab one of the panicking drunkards back at the bar, all of whom I've left to miss Little Mermaid, lucky her."

  Elias looked like he was trying to hold back a smile, and turned away to hide it. "You are no damsel." He agreed and Inteus rolled his eyes.

  "Of all the things you got outta that." He muttered, but there was no heat behind his words even if he wanted there to be. "Come on, Romeo. Better hurry before we get swamped in dead things."

  Inteus could feel the break in the wards as he got closer, and Elias swung himself up onto a broken section of the wall to find a higher vantage point for his rifle.

   _'...it's broken from the inside?'_

  The witch frowned as he reached for the tools, solidified mountain ash and ground bone and nameless herbs, to reconnect the break, but he chalked his inner turmoil to the foul smell of the mixture in his hands coupled with the scent of the dead brought on the breeze- 

  The realization hit him full force. Literally. He didn't even realize what was going on until he hit the ground hard and felt the sticky weight of  _something_ on top of him, unhinged jaw snapping at his throat that would've connected if he hadn't reacted automatically, crossing his arms and pushing upwards and outwards, and it still took him a full two seconds.

  The stench was excruciating; Inteus felt like throwing up and his eyes watered from the foul smell.

  There was a ringing in his ears and he vaguely heard his name, but all he could focus on was the sting of decomposition, slimy and disgustingly soft, melting off rotten bones and burning his skin, the dead weight of the grotesque caricature of a human being trying to sink blunt, broken teeth into his pulse, the broken record repetition of _'_ _it won't be alone'_ like a helpless mantra in his head.

  The creature jerked to the side off him, and in the same heartbeat the sound of a gunshot ricocheted off the cracked walls, shell dancing on the ground with a sound like wind chimes, and Inteus wasted no time scrambling back to his feet as another bullet found the unmoving creature's skull. 

  "Inteus!"

  "I'm fine!"

   But he wasn't; the creature had dripped all over him, black blood and gunk and pus, and he felt disgusting and cold, as if the infection could seep through his pores and into his blood, even though that wasn't how it worked. "Gross." He muttered, shaking his hand and watching the muck ooze off his fingers and splatter on the ground, shivering as images flashed before his eyes and wincing as he realized the tackle had twisted his wrist the wrong way. Cradling it against his chest, feeling the sprain throb in time with his jackrabbit heartbeat, he forced himself to move, stumbling back to the ward and retrieving his tools. He could hear them now, the rest of the hoard, attracted by the sound of gunfire and heartbeat no doubt, and he had to work quickly, tracing the connection between the break meticulously. Gunfire rang out above him, but he didn't dare look up; his hands were already shaking enough without seeing them again. 

   Bullet after bullet; Elias was shooting down so many. How many of them had actually gotten past the wards? He cursed under his breath, but the line was reconnected, a silver-white, chalky, insignificant smear, but now that the circle was closed Inteus could feel the hum of power run through is fingertips. 

   "I'm done!" He hollered up, and Elias's dark curls poked over the edge of the the broken wall. 

   "Give me your hand." Elias extended his arm, and his cold fingers curled around Inteus's burning ones when he reached up, and he was suddenly weightless as he was hoisted up with relative ease, as if he was a feather. Inhuman gurgling and shuffling echoed down below as they made for the higher floors. "There are many - too many. I do not have the ammunition to halt their advance if they were to move to the inner area." 

   "Don't worry, I've got an plan." He promised.

   "This is not a plan." Elias deadpanned, later, when they were out of the range of the outer wards and Inteus had described his plan to him.

   Inteus shot him a toothy smirk, checking the inked markings on his palms. "'Course it is. I bait, you shoot, and when they get close enough, _bam_. That's totally a plan." 

   "It is _not_ a plan," Elias insisted, even as he rechecked his bullet shells and tested his movement range from his new perch. "Even if it _was_ a plan, it is a very dangerous, and most likely suicidal plan and I do not approve of it." 

   "I don't need your approval, tall, pale, and handsome; I just need your cooperation." Inteus brushed off his hands and bounced on his toes. "And even without, I'm gonna do it anyways. _Ciao_!" Heedless of Elias's warnings, he did a running leap, and then gravity was taking him down, down; he felt the raw magic in his hands spinning wildly out of control as it tried to catch up with his speed. Fighting against inertia, he brought his flailing arms closer, and touched the mountain ash to the wall, a trail of silver white ash left behind as he passed. His fingers tried to catch a purchase on a flat surface and Inteus felt the breath rush out of him as he hit the wall hard, but his hands and feet were already moving, dragging him across a vertical surface as he recreated a larger scale ward. It was not a quiet affair, and within minutes a horde of creatures had sniffed him out, snapping at his heels from below. Sweat beaded along his brow as his arms began to shake and he tried not to think about them. 

   Almost a century had passed and still he had to remind himself that they were no longer human, had to remind himself not to think about who they might have been before all of...this. There was no use. The world had long given up on a cure anyways.

   The ground was swarmed with the creatures now, and the ward was pretty much as complete as it was going to get; Inteus began his slow ascent to his previously planned.

   He had misjudged the sturdiness of the wall, and his handhold crumbled, rubble cutting through his palm and nullifying the adhesive magic he had applied.

   Inteus hated that swooping feeling in his stomach that came with the sensation of gravity pulling at him, and he was grasping uselessly at the air.

   "Inteus!"

   His other hand dug deep and he slammed back against the wall, barely holding on by the tips of his fingers, and he grimaced as the air hissed through his teeth when the sprained muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed in protest again the weight of the rest of his body dragging him downwards. Normally a climb like this wouldn't have been problematic for him; but normally he wouldn't have had an injured wrist either. He was in trouble... If he couldn't get out of the way, Elias wouldn't have a clear shot at the ward trigger. If he let go, he'd fall into a viper's pit of deadmen waiting to tear him limb from limb; the enclosed space would make it impossible for him to even think about making a break for it once he hit the ground, even on the off change he managed to somehow avoid breaking his ankles from the fall. 

   "Okay! This was a shit plan!"

   Inteus could hear Elias abandoning his position, but there would be no use; they were just too far from each other. His fingers were slipping, unable to hold on through the pain. "Don't let go!" Inteus felt it again, that vaguely fuzzy heaviness that came with Elias's words, and suddenly he was willing to lose the feeling in his hand his whole life if it meant not going against that order, but his physical body couldn't take the actual strain. His fingers were already going numb.

   And then an inferno suddenly roared to life beneath the soles of his feet, like a giant coiling red and gold basilisk winding its way through the horde with precision and purpose, spinning through the corpses and singeing Inteus's skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and he didn't know how long he clung to the wall that way but the moment the roaring flames began to die down, the relief that coursed through him made him really lose his grip, and he was flailing through the air.

   He wondered if his last through would be how this was the most idiotic way to go after surviving all of that, breaking his neck in a fall of all things, because he couldn't hold on.

   Something rammed into him mid-air, and Inteus's first instinct was to struggle because he had been tackled by deadmen one too many times today already, but then they landed safely on the ground and he realized whoever it was, it wasn't trying to eat him. 

   "Next time," Elias informed him, holding him so securely against his torso that Inteus could feel the chill of his skin, fingers tight around his shoulder like he was reassuring himself that Inteus was there. "You should leave the planning to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ist unhöflich - is rude.
> 
> Korbin is literally Drax. 
> 
> The VERY long overdue third chapter, haha...hah ((kill meeeee)).
> 
> So, I'm actually trying out a different style of writing for Inteus's chapters. While Elias doesn't say a lot and most of the chapters will be dedicated to him figuring things out in his head and wallowing in memories and thoughts with a little bit of interaction with the others, Inteus would be a sporadic, do first, think about it later kind of person, hence the lack of internal monologuing, more interacting with other people, and shorter paragraphs. There is also the fact that he likes to talk. A lot. 
> 
> Chapters will be slow coming due to real life and college and overbearing parents and juggling this work with my other work, but I _will_ finish it I swear. I'm way too invested in this plot not to.
> 
> I feel like this is even worse than the previous chapter and it ended on a pretty weird note I think, because this was literally just me plowing through a writer's block ; v; My writing still makes me feel all kinds of 'erugh'ness because I didn't know how to end this and so I posted it before I lost my nerve.  
> More kind-of-character-background and additional characters essential to the grand scheme of things.  
> First zombie contact of (I'm hoping) many more to come. How do you action sequence.  
> ALSO MORE HARD ACCENTS TO TYPE EURGH I'm going to be so happy when I don't have to do Johanna's accented English.
> 
> Hopefully I'll also be able to get into a bi-weekly update schedule soon.
> 
> ((debatable because I've just discovered why Fenris/Mage!Hawke is the best thing to ever grace the gaming industry))


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

The Shards of Ash and Stars will be undergoing a bit of a revamp!

University has taken over my life lately, since I have to retake my IELTS/TOEFL for my exchange program, but I promise I haven't abandoned this series!

Also I decided that maybe the original style/pace I decided on was a little bit too slow - so please look forward to the new version of Shards in the coming months!! > <!!!

I don't want to delete any chapters to make way for new ones, so this will be labelled as discontinued, but I'll be rewriting (almost) the whole thing from scratch in a new work under the same name!!!  ~~So no one freak out okay.~~

So sorry for the delay guys, thank you to anyone who's still with me!!! TT

☆⌒(ゝ。∂) _v o x i_

* * *

 


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